Brother Dear
by ScarlettSerpent
Summary: When John goes to St. Barts after the fall to say his final goodbyes to Sherlock, he meets someone that he thought didn't even exist. Rated for swearing and mentions of suicide. One-shot. Post-Reichenbach Fall.


_**Hiya guys, it's Scarlett here ^_^. I watched Reichenbach Fall a while ago and was so upset when Sherlock jumped, the worst part was when you could see the tears dripping off his face; I couldn't stop crying! Anyway, I came up with this little plot-bunny a while after, and it wouldn't go away. So, read on, review (Pretty please!) and enjoy ;) ~ Scarlett ~**_

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Richard sat in the waiting room of St Bart's morgue, waiting to see the body of Jim Moriarty. As his only family and emergency contact, he had to identify the body, but it was really the last thing he wanted to see at the moment. It hurt just too much to see his brother like that. _Well, he'd just have to get it over with._ As he raised his head and looked around the waiting room, he noticed John Watson sitting in a corner. Of course. Sherlock Holmes. They had died on the same day, just minutes apart. It was almost poetic, in a way. If he dared to think like that. He looked away from where John was sitting. The man was grieving, and he didn't want to attract his attention, not after all that had happened.

John noticed a man watching him and glanced up, but as he did the man looked away. He looked familiar... Nose... Eyes! Cold eyes… Moriarty? No, he was dead. Killed himself right before Sh- John tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. Sherlock had… had thrown himself… John buried his head in his hands.

Richard risked a glance back at John. Did he recognize him? It looked like that. Did he know he wasn't Moriarty? He must have. No one could survive a shot like that. Should he say something? No, probably not. He should just leave him alone.

John caught the man looking at him again through his fingers. Those eyes! Definitely Moriarty. But Moriarty was dead, wasn't he? Then _who_...? Before he realised it, John was up and had flown across the room to grab the man by the front of his coat, and slam him back into the wall. "Who are you?" He snarled. He pushed harder against the man.

Richard gasped as John grabbed him, wincing a little. He hadn't been expecting that. "I... I'm Richard Brook…" he mumbled.

John's eyes widened, before he growled and pressed against the man's windpipe. "Richard Brook was Moriarty's fake name. Let's try again: _who the_ _hell are you_?" He glared at 'Brook'.

"I... I told you" he croaked, trying to get away from John's grip, trying to get some air. "I'm... his brother..."

John faltered, allowing the man to breathe. "Brother?"

Richard nodded. "How else could I be here right now?"

John released the man, crumpling to his knees. "I didn't know. S-sorry..." He buried his head in his hands again.

Richard fell to the floor as well, trying to catch his breath. "It's alright," he mumbled. "Y-you didn't know."

John looked up with tired, ocean blue eyes. "Moriarty had a brother? Why did he use your name?"

"It was an elaborate plan. He... He made sure no one knew we were brothers. It was the perfect plan."

"Where the hell were you through all of this?" John rubbed his red-rimmed eyes.

"That's... not important." Richard looked down evasively.

John glowered again. "It is when _your brother fucking killed_ my b-best friend... Sh-" He looked down.

"Just... I didn't know what he was doing until I saw a picture of myself in the newspaper when it couldn't possibly have been me. I conveniently had a business meeting in America at the time. I had no idea what was going on, and when I found out it was too late to stop him."

"Right... Never mind then..." John got up and walked dully back to his seat. _Why'd you leave me here alone, you idiot? You were all I had._

Richard got up and sat back in his chair as well. "I'm sorry. For what it's worth."

"So am I, Richard." John chuckled humourlessly.

"I swear, if I could have stopped him, if there was anything I could have done, I would have, but... You know."

"Yeah... He was a twisted bastard, wasn't he?"

Richard laughed bitterly. "You have no idea."

"How so?" John looked up at him.

"You don't want to know."

"I do. If there's one thing about Moriarty I want to know, then it's why the hell was he like that? He might have been as intelligent as Sh- as _him_, but he turned out the complete opposite. So, God yes, I do."

Richard turned to look at him. "You want me to explain how the mind of Jim Moriarty worked?"

"No, I want to know if he was like that when he was younger. If not, what changed him?" John grimaced.

"Well... He wasn't always like that. Started as a teenager, I think. I'm not sure what changed him."

"Why didn't he have the same last name as you? You said you were brothers." John frowned.

"We were half-brothers. We had the same mother, but different fathers. He was older than me."

"But Sh- _he_ said that _Reichenbach_ was Rich Brook in German… That doesn't make sense…" John glanced at Richard, puzzled.

"My mother had a very twisted sense of humour, which I think was where Moriarty got it from. He knew that my name meant _Reichenbach_ in German, which was why he used it, and defiled Sherlock Holmes' name at the time of the painting's unveiling."

"He said he got bored. How does someone turn into a serial killer just from being bored?" John asked incredulously.

"I wouldn't even be able to begin to think about the reason behind that." Richard leaned back in his chair.

"What I don't understand is that Sh- Damn it! _Sherlock_," John swallowed. "Wasn't like that, yet they both had the same brilliant mind!"

"I think your friend might have eventually turned out like that if it hadn't have been for you." He held up a hand when John visibly bristled. "I don't mean he was a psychopath. I mean that if you had never met him, I think that maybe he would have gotten so bored that he would have resorted to something just as drastic. You grounded him, and Moriarty never had someone to do that for him."

John stood up. It was time to see Sh- Sherlock and talk to Molly. "Thanks, Richard. I would give you my regrets, but considering who your brother was, I won't."

Richard smiled and nodded. "I understand. I wouldn't expect anything else."

"Goodbye, Richard."

"Goodbye, John."

John nodded at Moriarty's brother, and walked out into the corridor. It was time to say his final goodbyes to the world's only consulting detective, his partner, flatmate, and best friend.


End file.
